


The Ascendent Son

by Lyanna_Targaryen



Category: Destiny (The Dark Below), Destiny (The Taken King), Destiny (Video Game), Destiny: The Taken King, The Taken King, Video Games - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Destiny, F/M, Father versus Son, Father-Son Relationship, Human Crota - Freeform, Multi, Other, POV Male Character, Redemption, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, The Hive - Freeform, light versus dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyanna_Targaryen/pseuds/Lyanna_Targaryen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vanguard thought Crota had been banished from their realm for good after the successful strike, unaware that the Traveler had different plans and saved Crota’s soul before it could be lost again to darkness. Crota wakes on Earth, except not as a Hive Prince but as a human male. He’s lost his memories but the Speaker is there to guide him. He has no trouble fighting the Cabal, Fallen, and the Vex, but the slight hesitation he has when in the face of the Hive and Taken do not go unnoticed by his teammates.</p><p>The Hive haven't forgotten their Prince and neither has the Taken King, who unknowingly is fighting a war against his own son. But Crota has bigger things to fear like how Eris Morn is watching his every move and the reappearance of the Guardian who killed him the first time around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crest of a New Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The author doesn't own some of the characters or the world in is this work or is this associated with Destiny or Bungie in any form. This story makes no profit and is purely written and shared for enjoyment. Thank you.

**Prologue**  

 

Light glimpsed the rounded edges of a slumbering planet, bringing forth light and a new day to the beings that live beneath the changing atmosphere. Behind the floating rock steadily rose a raging giant of fire, warmth, and unyielding light. The sun, a centerpiece that kept the galaxy strung together in an interstellar web of calculated design forged before light itself first flickered into existence.

All life forms require light to grow, to become strong and live a life that is not dominated by the chains of darkness. To no longer live in fear of what they cannot see. And in time a new kind of light of its own unique origin grows within the substance creatures that let it in.

A new power forged from the very soul of every life form.

Including those of darkness.

Light can never be extinguished, only consumed, and if allowed, can grow and affect the consumer from the inside out.

No matter how sturdy the shell may be nimble light will eventually peak through the cracks until it can no longer be contained.

And after one too many cracks in the dark shell of armor that a powerful Prince of Darkness bore, it shattered with his death and his soul was cast away from the physical world and his reign brought to an end.

But maybe that was what the Prince needed, to be struck and beaten by those who wielded light and in the name of light to break his dark exterior and have his own light deep within him set free?

A lone, ancient space traveler seemed to think so, and with its inorganic mentality and cosmetic power it reached out and grabbed the lost soul and channeled it through time and space to offer it what the universe kept from it.

Light.

And so Crota was born again, but under a gentler sun and far from where the shadows would dare reach for fear of being scorched.

 


	2. Three Fallen, Two Guardians, and One unconscious Prince.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crota wakes up and has absolutely no idea who he is, where he is, or what's going on.

 

From the depths of his conscious came a distant voice.

_“The new dawn has begun, young one, with you as its rousing call. Wake and gather the ones who respond to your cry, and together forge a new light and lead this realm into a new and brighter era.”_

Despite the gentleness of the tone, it startled the man awake. His body shook and his sore muscled quivered. He gasped, and warm tasting air flooded down his parched throat and into his lungs, where he felt his innards blaze like a small spark had finally been given the chance to catch.

He recoiled from the thought of opening his eyes. The light glaring down behind the thin protection of his eyelids was already too much to handle. It caused him to squint harder and wish he hadn’t woken to begin with.

Pain was easier dealt with when unconscious.

Thin, dried strands of some plant growth tickled and itched the outline of his body. His back ached on a surface too hard for the plant growing from it to provide and comfort. He shifted again and groaned as he was forced to exhale the blazing inferno that's been surging deep in his chest.

Cries and whistles of small creatures filtered the air in a systematized response system. He clung to the sounds and used them as an anchor to help ease out the dull, high-pitched ringing in both ears. He swallowed heavily again, and a layer of the ringing seemed to lift and allow him more sounds to grasp and slowly distinguish whether they’re threatening or not.

Something wasn’t right, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was naked and laying impaired and battered on some foreign soil. That hardly concerned him, what did, though, was the forbidding lack of memory of how he came to be stripped and sore.

He couldn’t remember much of anything prior to waking up. His mind screamed in agony when he tried to access memories that were so deep in his conscious that he lost himself part way through and had to remind himself why he was trying to access his lost recollections and start over again.

He couldn’t remember anything.

His own mind didn’t _want_ him to.

His brain wasn’t completely void, though; he could actually feel the reminiscences tucked deep below. He could almost hear them if he really tried – the soft murmurs of voices and sounds, just beyond a wall so thick that if he put his ear to it and really strained he just might be able to hear something valuable to trigger his memory.

Aggravating was too lenient of a word to describe his boiling frustration. He wanted to lash out and blame whoever had done this unspeakable crime to him, but… he couldn’t remember if there was another single soul in the universes besides him at that moment.

For all he knew he could be the only living thing in the universe and that made his stomach knot and his heart thud increasingly in his chest. But he wouldn't know any of that for sure until he opened his eyes and greeted the world that he either has forgotten or been placed anew in.

It was time for him to face the light.

The sun ( _yes he knew basic elemental words_ ) received him just as bitterly as he felt about welcoming it. His eyelids barely cracked open before they slammed shut again.

It was too painful. Had the sun always been this intense or were the pair of eyes he owned now just frailer than before towards light? Was there even a before?

For some reason the thought made him wonder just how many eyes he had. He thought he felt only the two struggling, but there was a ghost of a sensation of another one a little higher placed and right in the middle of the two. Cautiously he reached up to touch the spot. Nothing. Odd.

Deciding that facing directly towards the giant ball of gas and flame wasn’t going to help ease his transition towards the sunlit, he alleviated onto his side and bit back a groan at the shift of pressure and his muscles tightening at the sudden use of them.

The new position helped and he was able to squint past the strands of pale grass and see the bright, fuzzy landscape that surrounded him. He closed his eyes, waited a few seconds, and then opened them again to a somewhat clearer world.

He moaned. He hasn’t a single clue where he was or what he was even looking at. This was all so new to him yet the structures seemed so old. Obviously, this planet has been around far longer than he and by the looks of it has also seen better days. Roads were cracked and faded, buildings were broken and half collapsed, large objects that were peculiarly lined up one after another were coated in rust and long abandoned… He stared, mystified at the new and unrecognizable world before him.

Had he missed a war?

If so, then it had long passed and this planet at one point served as the battleground. The thought barely comforted him. He didn’t have to get up and search around if he wanted to find other signs of remaining life. There was no way the planet’s inhabitants still remained behind. There was nothing left to sustain them. He doubted he would have much luck searching the nearly scorched terrain for food for himself. The thought of finding a drinkable substance was laughable as well.

His muscles protested the labor as soon as he tried putting them to use to hoist himself off the cold floor. The grass indention he left seemed to suggest he had been there for a long amount of time. He couldn’t remember how he got there but if he happened to have been placed there by someone else then he wasn’t going to stick around in case they chose to return for him.

His legs immediately collapsed as soon as he tried to use them. The ground grated his bare, weak knees and left faint pink scratch marks. He steadied himself and locked his jaw in determination.

Pain was nothing more than weakness leaving the body. He could do this.

Again he stood and fought against the tremble in his knees as he attempted a small step forward. He swung his hands out to balance himself. He wouldn't fall, but if he did then he would force himself back up.

He was making progress and the quiver in his legs started to seep away with each new step. His pace increased and he put more concentration on what he was stepping on and not where he was stepping to.

His moment of triumph quickly perished when the iron post came up just as swiftly as he made for it. There were a smack and a resounding **‘ _DONG_ ’** that rang through the air as the post trembled back and forth.

The nearby birds squawked and made their rapid escape into the sky. He clasped his forward and grimaced.

“FUCK.” He cursed, and took several sloppy steps back with his head cradled in his hands.

That…had not been intended. How could he have been so careless to make such a mistake? It frustrated him more than the pain did. The mark would surely leave would be a grim reminder.

It was only after the iron post stopped vibrating that he realized that was another annoying sound carrying through the air. He approached the poll and put a hand to hold it steady and listened to his surroundings.

He couldn’t distinguish what exactly the sound was or what it meant, but he was aware enough to identify that it came from possible intelligent another life form.

He wasn’t alone.

Quickly mastering the new use of his legs he darted behind one of the many rusted machines that lined up along the forgotten road. The odd creature produced sound suddenly stopped and he narrowed his eyes in the direction he thought he had lost heard it.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he was afraid that whatever was out there could hear its thundering just as loud as he could. He placed a hand over the organ as if to grab it and hold it steady himself.

He hoped this was normal for his species and that his organ wasn’t suddenly malfunctioning.

There was the snap of something breaking under pressure and he turned to his left and peaked through the rusted machines to find a creature not that much taller than himself moving through the rows. In its four arms it held a single large weapon and had two thinner ones strapped at its back. He focused on the two of them. 

Those could definitely be of use.

Mutely he slowly maneuvered his way around the shell of aged machines and crept up behind the alien species. Nothing about them triggered his memory. He couldn’t name what it was let alone what _he_ was. His primal instincts told him just enough that this thing wasn’t friendly.

He held his breath when he was about a foot behind the creature and slowly reached up to grasp the two hilts of the cased swords at its back. The tips of his fingers just touched the cool metal when there was sudden, distressed squawk coming from somewhere to his right.

His eyes glimpsed a smaller creature with a red face and wide, alarmed yellow eyes glaring at him about a yard away. It was a different creature than the one he stood behind at that moment, but he assumed they were of the same comradeship nonetheless.

He didn’t wasn’t another second and closed his hands around the weapons hilts and yanked them up and free of their holdings. The four-armed alien made a deep, barking noise of its own and spun around in surprise.

Four of their glowing blue eyes glared down into his before it growled and swung at him. He jumped back, ignoring the pain of his bare feet skidding against the rocks and debris and quickly stepped forward, bringing the sword in his right hand down hard at the elbow of the alien’s top left arm. The weight of the weapon and the power in his swing caused for their to be little resistance from neither armor or bone. A clean cut. 

The alien cried out as its limb dropped to the floor with a soft thud.Two of the fingers continued to twitch before they curdled in on themselves like the rest of the long digits. His opponent staggered back and grasped at the severed joint in an attempt to stop the bleeding while the other two fumbled to keep hold on the gun. With its guard down, he continued his advance and slashed at the creature’s open neck before it could recuperate.

The alien made a gurgling sound before it collapsed and joined its limb on the ground in a puddle of crimson.

Victory flared in his chest at the sight but it didn’t last long before the smaller creature who he had forgotten about began shooting him. He narrowed his eyes and hunched forward as he zigzagged through the maze of machinery, the two swords still wet from his recent kill lowered at his sides.

The creature made a frightened noise when he suddenly leaped onto the back of one of the rusted machines and came bounding towards it with both swords poised to cut it down. Blue bolts of light zipped by and one managed to graze his right side. It only fueled his determination and he had the two blades buried in the aliens chest before bare his feet made contact with the ground again.

Its eyes faded then closed and he let the alien slide backward off his blades and flop on the ground at his feet.

There was a flash of red and without hesitating he flung out his right hand and the sword went sailing through the air and sliced right through some type of levitating equipped droid. The machine sparked and started to descend back towards the planet’s surface as it tried to float away before it finally skidded to a crash.

He let out a shaky breath as his adrenaline began to fade. His hand flexed and unflexed on the remaining sword in his left grip.

He had no memory of what those things were. He wished he had _something_ to go off of to help rationalize what had just happened and _what_ he’d just killed out of pure instinct to survive, but he didn’t.

He could remember _nothing_.

The red robotic droid sparked when he removed the sword and he stared at the two weapons. He had the opportunity to steal the gun from the four-armed creature after it had died but he chose not to. Something just felt right about the way a sword fit into his hands.

Maybe he had been a warrior wherever he’d come from? It’d explain how naturally fighting came to him. Maybe he was even- -

He froze when he detected chatter coming from not too far behind him. He tensed and scolded himself for once again letting his guard down. Obviously, the aliens would have a search group sent after them if one of them suddenly went dark on commutation. It appeared he underestimated their response time.

Just as quietly as he’d been when he snuck on the four-armed creature, he stalked towards the source of the chatter that seemed to be coming from behind one of the large, rectangle rock barriers. By the sounds of it, there were two of them and they were…arguing.

He smirked. They were probably debating on who first was to try and attack him. Fortunately for them, he planned on killing them both at the same time.

Careful not to alert his new opponents of his immediate approach on their location, he watched the terrain to ensure that he didn't step on anything that would crunch or snap under his feet. His weapons were low and tucked close to his sides so they wouldn't clip on the objects he maneuvered around. There was a constricting burning feeling deep in the muscles of his legs but otherwise he had little difficulty when it came to scaling the wall where he knew the two other creatures were dwelling behind. From the edge he paused long enough to silently observe the two unsuspecting life forms and discovered that they weren't the same as the last aliens he’d encountered. These two were of a completely different species.

What _were_ they?

The two individuals stopped their bantering when they finally sensed his presence and twisted their helmeted heads up in his direction. He waited for one of them to squeal in fright like the little red creature did but instead they continued to kneel in the dried grass and stare up at him.

He watched as the one that wore a bright red helmet lower their gaze down and stopped to stare at the space in between his thighs and just below his midsection. The Individual suddenly went rigid and reached out and clasped the one dressed in green on the forearm.

“Oh, my go-he’s naked! Why didn’t you tell me was naked!?” The creature, female from the sounds of it, screeched and her grip on her companion only seemed to tighten as she appeared to grow more distressed. 

The one in green made a pained sound and reached up to try and pry her steel-clad hand loose.

“I told you he wasn’t wearing any armor!” it, a male, argued back in his struggle. 

“I didn’t know you meant clothes in general! How am I supposed to unsee this?!” She shook her companion relentlessly as he appeared torn between looking towards his partner and not taking his eyes off the stranger just above their heads.

He found these strange species to be very…annoying.

Assuming they were both distracted enough with one another as they continued to argue, he chose that particular moment to strike and quiet them himself and permanently. The loud nosies they made would only attract other potential threats. He honestly didn’t know why he'd waited this long and continued to watch their bantering. Perhaps their resentment towards one another amused him.

He let gravity carry him down and he landed directly in front of the odd pair. They stopped squabbling immediately and stared silently either in fear or shock at him as he took another step forward.

The woman was closer, so he planned on taking her out first before finishing off the male. He thought she would be the easier target, despite her towering height, but was quickly proved wrong when she let out a panicked shriek and before he could even blink there was a glowing fist coming straight towards his face.

He was knocked out before his back made contact with the wall behind him.


	3. Awaking Behind the Great Wall

The pounding in his head was what drew from unconsciousness. He became aware of the thundering pain before anything else. An abnormal sense of familiarity swept through his hazy mind at the situation. For some reason, he felt that he’d been through all of this before, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall when. His memories seemed to be dwarfed by the insistent hammering that was nailing hot spikes into the interior of his skull.

His eyes snapped open and he blinked fiercely against the artificial light that flickered glossily into his face. Again, he was slapped with a strong sense of familiarity. Something akin to fear jump-started his senses. His instincts screamed for him to get up, to move, to run as far away as possible and then hide. He wasn’t safe here.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins to the point that his limbs started to twitch and he was sitting upright in a split second. His vision went black but that didn’t stop him from throwing whatever itchy textile that’d been covering him off and swinging his legs over the side of the table. He registered a shrilling beeping come from his left as he wobbled once both feet landed on the cold ground.

His joints ached and the throbbing in his head grew worse the longer he stood upright. His vision returned in blotches and the room started to spin around him in bright, painful colors. His knee buckled on him after one step and he reached out to grab onto something for support, resulting in a loud crash of metal objects smacking the floor just as he did.

He kneeled, trying to catch his breath and figure out why his body wasn’t responding. Where had this sudden weakness come from? What was wrong with him?

There was a swift ‘ ** _swooshing_** ’ sound from the other side of the room and he dizzily turned. The blurry outline of someone rushed towards him and he staggered away. He needed to get up, he needed to escape, he needed to…

A hand gripped his forearm and he growled and yanked free. The stranger, a young woman, recoiled back as if bitten.

“Don’t…” his throat burned as he tried to suck in air in order to speak. “t-touch me. Don’t you _dare_ touch me.”

The hazy picture of the woman hovered at his side as if in contemplation. He swore if they reached out to him again they’d leave the room with once less limb than when they first entered.

_“Relax, young one. They mean you no ill-intent.”_

He whipped his head in the opposite direction where he heard the distant voice, searching the room for the other creature that’d slipped into the room without his acknowledgment. There was no one there. He shook his head because he swore the voice wasn’t part of his imagination.

There was a warm, soft chuckle that carried through the space like a cool breeze. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise.

_“Your faith will not be wasted in them, child. Accept their grace.”_

Where was that voice coming from? Why did he feel as though he heard it before? The sensation that overwhelmed him to try and escape started to diminish and the adrenaline left his system tired and abused. His shoulders slumped from the invisible weight on them.

The door opened again and he watched cautiously with improved eyesight as two more creatures entered the room. The one that’d been previously kneeled next to him had slipped away sometime during his distraction.

The individuals regrouped to discuss in low tones of what he assumed about him. He tried to stand again on his own but memories from not too long ago started to flash through his mind: a burning light, pain coursing through his veins, the whisper of some distant voice, creatures with glowing eyes and multiple arms, the weight of swords in his palms. There was more but trying to recall them made his face hurt and the ghost taste of his own blood filled his mouth.

Bare feet planted themselves on cold floor as he slowly rose. His muscles still ached and his knees wobbled under the pressure but he couldn’t remain on the ground in a pitiful heap any longer. He was stronger than this.

Three sets of eyes turned towards him. He gazed back, untrusting and vigilant of those who detained him.

_“Trust them.”_

He brushed the voice off. If these creatures wanted his trust then they were going to have to work hard for it. Trust was earned not given.

The one who wore a long, pale bluish grey-layered jacket was first to approach. He stiffened and watched him narrowly.

With vision at its best compared to when he first woke up in this strange place, he could see these creatures more clearly. Familiar as they were he still couldn’t put a name to them.

“You’ve woken to surroundings and faces that are unfamiliar to you. Your hostility is understandable but also unnecessary. We are Healers, not slayers. Cruelty and neglect have no business here.”

This creature, a man, assured him in a low, sincere tone. His eyes were an electric yellow that glowed and danced vibrantly in comparison against the deep blue color of his skin.

“Here?” his voice rasped and he swallowed to clear it. He felt parched. “Where is ‘ _here_ ’?” Where am I?”

The man was expressionless but the gleam in his golden regard of him gave away his curiosity.

“What do you remember?”

He scuffed because he honestly couldn’t recall much of anything over the course of his almost nonexistent feeling life, but then the image of two individuals gave him pause. One armored in ruby red and the other in several shades of green, both arguing over…something. They saw him, whoever they were, and then the one in red…

His eyes widened and he stiffened. The muscles in his right arm twitched to react to some type of incoming attack from nowhere. His startled gaze snapped back to the blue skinned Healer who’d been watching silently.

“I was attacked.”

“Do you remember by whom?”

A high-pitched feminine screech rang in his ears. He shook his head of the maddening noise.

“A warrior in red.” His fingers twitched for the weapons he’d once held and intended to slice them down with. “They weren’t alone.”

His knees began to tremble again and his grip on the edge of the table he’d been clasping tightened. The Healer seemed to take notice and reached out to assist him.

“ _Don’t_.” he bit out, and the other stopped and stepped back obediently. It was more out of respect than fear. He sighed.

“Your body shows signs of severe malnourishment and muscle degeneration. Your resolve can only sustain you for so long without appropriate recuperation.” Informed the Healer, who appeared emotionless about the current condition of his patient despite his profession. He was starting to assume it was common amongst his species.

“There is little we can do if you do not cooperate.”

“I’m no fool,” he said darkly and glared into the other man's inquisitive gaze. “The ones who attacked me brought me here. You and they are all part of whatever this all is. Why should I trust anything you say?”

The Healer merely blinked indifferently at his accusation.

“The trauma we detected in your head clearly hasn’t agitated your rationality state as much as we projected it would. Interesting. Can you explain to me the provocation of the attack? The ignition, if you may.”

He glared and took a threatening step forward. The two aids behind the man started to advance but the Healer held out a hand to cease them even though he had his back to his companions.

Accusingly he jabbed a finger into the other, taller man's chest. “They attacked me.”

The man raised a dark blue colored eyebrow. “Are you so guiltless to say that you weren’t preparing to do the same?”

“I was defending myself out there. There were others before them and I wasn’t taking chances.” He ground out.

“And I assume you commenced the attack on those unawares of your presence and intention as well?”

He reached a hand to his head to pull at something but his fingers only glided on low hair stumble. Exasperated he swung his arm out.

“They shot at me!”

“Before or after you cut one of their comrades down?”

“Does it matter!?”

“Entirely.”

The two assistants watched on nervously as their commandant stood calmly with his hands folded neatly behind his back. A few seconds of tense, uneasy silence passed between them before a floating object of irregular several points and smooth edges suddenly materialized in a shimmer of sapphire next to the Healer's head.

The sudden entrance of the odd entity caused him to flinch back in shock. He stared wide-eyed at the strange floating device with one purple glowing light in the middle of its blue and black multi-triangular shell.

The Healer seemed to take muted interest in his stunned reaction. The bastard.

“Are Ghost not a familiarity to you?”

Ghost? What in the nine hells was a _Ghost_?

“I-I don’t know… I don’t remember.” He confessed honestly.

The Healer, either sensing his discomfort or not recognizing it, carried on without missing a beat.

“Ghost are a rarity these days. The Darkness hungers for the Light in which they and their Guardian possess. If you hadn’t recognized a Guardian then a Ghost would have been an unrecognizable entity as well.”

“Is that what you are? A Guardian?”

The ‘Ghost’ floated closer to the blue male as several of its disk-like shapes rotated. The Healer reached up and gently touched one of its many flattened ends.

“A long time ago I could’ve been called such, but that is in the past and I am a man of the present. Curing those who fight beyond these walls for the security of this realm is my focus now. My days of fighting are done.”

He was about to give in to his curiosity about these so-called ‘Guardians’, but something the Healer had said made him falter. He stared at the man whose gleaming impassive yellow eyes stared down into his.

“What ‘ _wall_ ’? Where are we?” he questioned again, and the Healer and his Ghost both flickered a glance at one another.

“The Last City.” The Ghost chimed in, its voice eccentric yet knowledgeable. “This planet's only remaining stronghold after the great wars and our constant fight against the universal Darkness. Currently, we’re located in the lower levels of the Vanguard Tower where the Guardians come for medical assistance.”

The black and blue Ghost floated near him and he tilted his head back when he thought it got too close. It seemed to comprehend how uncomfortable it made its patient and drifted back towards its master.

None of it sounded familiar. The Vanguard, Guardians, Ghost, The Last City… None. Why couldn’t he remember anything? What had happened to him to make it all go away? Was this a punishment or some type of gift where ignorance was bliss?

He gulped and was reminded how sore his throat was and just how empty his innards felt. He felt hollow in so many different perspectives.

“Oh dear. He doesn't look so well.”

“Your assessment is correct. Our friend has shown a greater amount of restraint than we credited him although his condition. I believe he’ll need assistance in lying down.”

The Ghost moved towards him and he glared dangerously at the little thing.

“Don’t you come near me. I don’t need anyone’s help because I’m not staying here. I need to leave.”

The purple light that he assumed posed as the Ghost’s eye flashed as it scanned his form over. “Leave? Where will you go?”

“I’ll take my changes beyond the wall.”

“You won’t survive long out there on your own. The Last City is all that this planet has left to accommodate a hospitable environment for life forms.”

A small voice in his head encouraged him to stay and let these strangers help him while another, darker voice whispered for him to leave and not trust these humans. Humans. Is that what they were? Where had that word come from?

The name he discovered from the far reaches of his mind didn’t match the man who stood in front of him, though. Did all humans have blue skin, blue hair, and glowing eyes?

There was a sudden burning in his arm, a tingling sensation racing up through his veins, and he looked over to see the little black and blue Ghost carefully remove a thin needle from his skin. His vision started to dance again and a pair of arms grabbed him when he felt his legs fully give out.

"Rest now. We will discuss more when you wake." he heard the Healer say but it sounded so far away.

_“Trust them…”_

There was that bothersome, otherworldly voice again that apparently no one else was able to hear. There was a flash of light and he felt himself being consumed by heat as white flames danced in his vision. They were welcoming, inviting, but it was too much and too soon and he couldn’t handle it.

He closed his eyes and let the warmth slip away and be replaced by the cold void of his mind. The voice called out to him but it was too far away as he tumbled backward into darkness.


	4. Henceforth, you shall be known as...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians who stumbled upon the newly reborn Crota are introduced. The Speaker pays Crota a visit and a new name is given.

At the sound of footsteps approaching from nearby, Margo paused in her workout routine longest to identify the owner of the faint treads before continuing her training. She’d just about finished her first round bench-pressing, her Ghost being her loyal spotter, and had been looking forward to adding more weights to the bar when the distraction in the form of a Warlock split her focus.

Her arms didn’t tremble when she held the bar aloft. She concentrated on her breathing and loosely gazed where she assumed her red and gray Ghost hovered nearby her head.

“Tell me you’ve been keepin’ count.”

“You just completed your 187th rep,” her Ghost responded in a factual tone.

“Ah,” she huffed, lowering the bar then pausing as she pushed it up again. “Ya sure?”

“Unquestionably. Why? Does it feel like more?”

“Nope,” the female Titan grinned and bent her elbows as she lowered the bar and did several more steady lifts before responding, continuing to test her potency. “Feels like less.”

The footsteps came to a smooth stop and Margo didn't bother to stop her weightlifting as she was so close to completing the first part of her daily workout routine. Reaching two hundred used to be her limit when she first joined the Titan Vanguard. Now it was just the beginning of her warm-up for her upper body concentrated days.

“Margo?”

It was Everett's voice from behind her, completely expected, yet the blonde Titan cringed a little at the sound of the way he said her name. She glanced sideways at the mirror to her right and saw her Awoken friend staring back at her, Everett’s aliened colored gray, sharp-featured face full of barely masked concern and disapproval. Everett was never the type to show too much emotion. The rare occasions he did were only with her and three other Guardians he’d grown close enough to.

“Ya need somethin’ big guy?” she grinned, a joke shared between them because compared to her Everett most definitely was not a ‘ _big guy’_ , but more of a _slim fellow_ since she topped him in height by a few inches and an amount of weight that only he knew and was reluctant to share after she told him how much she weighed and all she’d received from him was an annoyed, _“you win”._

Everett was quiet, as he seemed content to observe her from his spot on the side of the entryway. She focused back and forth from the metal bar she was currently lowering and lifting in both of her gloved hands to her friend who wouldn't stop staring at her like he was waiting on her for something.

“Why are you doing your exercises so late?” finally he asked.

She huffed, not at the impressive weights in her hands but at what she thought the absurdity of his question.

“Whatcha talkin’ about? It’s, like, super early.”

“It’s 3:27 in the morning, Margo.”

“Like I said, _super_ _early_. I’m gettin’ a head start while the other lazy bones are in their beds asleep.”

“As where you should be," Everett responded. “You’re overworking yourself.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we Titans are durable, huh?” she winked. He only looked _more_ unimpressed if that were really possible. Everett could be such a stick in the mud sometimes.

“I know what you’re doing, and this isn’t the way to go about it. A stressed body does an already stressed conscious no good.”

The blonde groaned and held the bar and weight still as she let it down above her chest and kept her elbows bent but careful not to lock them. “You’re starting to sound like your Warlock Vanguard, ya know that? Not that it’s a bad or anything, cause she’s really cool, but kinda makes you sound old,” She paused, then. “-er.” She added as a tease.

Not completely true. She was twenty-one and Everett was only three years older than her – making him twenty-four. They were still pretty young compared to everyone else who is higher ranking than them in the Vanguard or the citizens around the Tower that work here.

“Margo…” she heard the Awoken sigh as he said her name. 

She noticed him move a loose strand of his long black hair that’d wiggled free from its bun away from his eye and place it neatly behind his ear. Many strands had managed to come loose but he must’ve not stopped long enough to check his appearance and fix them like he normally did after he removed his helmet. He then used that same hand to rub his eyes with his thumb and index finger. 

Guilt started to worm its way into her stomach at the sight of her best friend so exhausted. He’d been covering for her as she escaped to the workout center after her first rounds of questioning from the different leaders of the Vanguard after her and Everett’s interesting little find out in the Cosmodrome.

It wasn’t every day you go on patrol in Old Russia and come across a _naked man_.

The memory of the whole experience _still_ scarred her and made her blush. She wasn’t even interested in men, so she never really thought about what a naked man would look like but what she’d witnessed that afternoon definitely altered whatever crude image she thought was below the average males belt buckle.

Too distracted with her thoughts she didn't notice Everett walk across the room toward her until he was hovering above her head, blocking out the light and firmly gripping the weight bar with both of his hands. She didn't understand what he was doing until the bar started to rise without her doing.

“Hey!”

“Release the bar, Margo.” The Warlock scolded.

She growled and gripped it tighter. “I’m not some damn wolf!”

“The sounds you’re making are having me think otherwise.”

Her eyes widened then narrowed. “Okay, first of all, rude!” she managed to lower the bar closer towards her cause duh, Titan status, but the Warlock had a lot more strength than his thin form presented and was holding his own pretty well. “And secondly, what's gotten into you? I was doin' just fine!"

“Fine?” he raised a fine black eyebrow. “Your face started to shade itself red as though you were having difficulties with the weight. I’m trying to help you.”

“Wha-? No! I was just thinking about the naked man from earlier today!” she responded exasperatingly without really thinking how indecent her words sounded until she saw the surprised expression on the Awoken’s normally composed face.

He immediately jerked back and she made a startled noise when the bar and all its impressive amount of weights came rushing back down. She was _just_ able to catch it before it crushed her throat. Her Ghost took notice and materialized the heavy weight away and floated close to her head.

“Are you alright?” it asked concerned and she nodded and sat up to give ‘Champ’, the name she’d given her Ghost, a pat on its maneuvering plates.

“Am now. Thanks, buddy.”

Champ still scanned her chest and throat region over several times, trying to detect any damage instead of fully relying on her word. It'd learned to that after all the years they'd spent together in the field. 

The blonde Titan looked away from Champ to Everett who had actually taken several steps away from her, his facial features in a wild cross between confusion, repulsion, and anger. It'd been a long time since Margo had seen so many emotions battling over her friends face like they were now.

He looked at her, his lips opening then closing like his mind couldn’t decide what he wanted to say first. He finally seemed to settle on saying: “ _Why_?” his tone not at all hiding his obvious distaste about the confession.

Margo rolled her eyes. “Everett!” she snapped, trying to get his full attention and stop whatever was going on in that overworking Awoken brain of his. “Seriously, you need to get your head out of the gutter. I wasn’t thinking about him in _that_ way. You know I swing in the other direction.”

He seemed to collect himself from his earlier shock better now but still appeared apprehensive about her words.

“I’m well aware of _‘where you swing’_ ,” he said quickly then cleared his throat. “Your bluntness towards the account was what caught me off guard is all.”

She laughed because there was a faint blush of pink in his pale ashen cheeks. “Jeez, Eve, that got more of a reaction out of you than when we first stumbled upon that naked guy by the Mothyards.”

“Stumbled upon him would be putting it kindly. He nearly tried to kill us need I remind you.”

“Yeah before I sucker punched the creep into a whole different time zone!” she laughed shortly at it before realization sank back in and she winced. She knew that punch really must’ve hurt cause her fist still tingled from the quick blow and that had been _hours_ ago. 

She cleared her throat and felt a little guilty as she looked back to Everett. “You think the guys doin’ alright down in the med bay? I got him pretty good.”

The Warlock crossed his arms over his black shirt and shrugged. “Can’t say. Haven’t bothered to keep tabs on him. He’s in their hands now and is none of our concern.”

She'd studied him because something about his posture made her question his words. Although she was positive Everett wasn't the type to get too invested in something that didn't benefit him or his Vanguard, he certainly was the type to feel responsible if his actions somehow put the others in the Tower at risk, like if he brought in a suspicious stranger that ended up wrecking havoc upon everything that they stood to protect.

Oh yeah, Everett was _sooo_ keeping tabs on the new guy.

And she’s also willing to bet that’s why he came down to the Titan’s training zone because he thought she felt the same pestering guilt deep down in her gut just waiting for something wrong to happen before showing its ugly head and screaming _‘I told you so’_ or ‘ _this is all your fault’_. And she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t exactly how she felt about the whole situation.

What if this stranger they brought back woke up and did do something horrible? Whose fault would it be then? Theirs or the ones who took charge of the guy?

 _It’d be ours_ , a voice in her head whispered. _We brought this man here._ _The blame would be ours._

“Do you think…” she started gently, and moved her brown gaze back up to stare directly into her friend’s green ones. “Do you think we made a mistake, Everett? By bringing him here? Beyond the walls? To our home?”

Everett’s gaze seemed to soften and his whole form shrunk in on itself after he let out a long, tired sigh. “I’m not sure. He tried to attack us like he did with the Fallen, and his performance with those dual swords indicated that he’d been trained at some point. But he also hesitated when he saw us.”

“Any idea why?”

He shook his head tiresomely. Apparent he’d been debating over the question mentally to himself all day after the incident.

“Not to interrupt.” Champ floated between the Human and Awoken. “But I’ve just received a medical update sent directly from the Healer’s Ghost concerning the status of the patient.”

Both Margo and Everett froze; fearful of news that could break their frail conscious grasping of the situation they put themselves in and were savoring the last remaining seconds of their unenlightened bliss.

Margo was first to speak.

“What does it say?”

The occupants in the room collectively held their breath.

“The patients awake and – ” It paused, the blue sensor light darting around as if reading the message like it was printed right in front of it. "Oh dear…"

  

* * *

 

_“He’s red.”_

_“Miniscule damage from constant exposure to the morning sun. Judging from the color I’d say he had been under its rays for a number of hours. Remarkable how vulnerable he’d been to the dangers beyond these walls, and yet all that had touched him was the sun.”_

_“Not all fathers can be as lenient as we hope them to be. The child was kept safe under the sun's constant scrutiny, but not without consequence. The boy is burned, yes, but now he will grow.”_

More voices. Internally he groaned. For people who had to drug him to force him to sleep, they were doing a shit job at helping him remain that way.

He started to shift in the sheets to alert them of his consciousness and work his limbs that still felt so heavy. His fingers reached out and gripped the cool steel railing of the bed in he'd been placed into at some point. The temperature of the post made him shiver as he felt his skin begin to prickle in reaction.

The noises in the room around him went quiet, making it hard for him to listen and try to estimate how many people were in there with him. He debated whether to jump up and make another run at the door. It hadn’t gone quite as he planned it to the first time but maybe…

“Welcome back.”

That wasn’t the Healer speaking. This one was new and deep and intellectual. The lingering presence he sensed at his left moved away until just the one at his right remained. 

His eyelids fluttered open as he focused on the fuzzy outline of a person in striking white. When he vision cleared and he was able to actually make out the man to his right, it came as somewhat of a surprise to see this new stranger donning a majorly white mask with few, black contours posing as the guises unfeeling attributes.

“Who are you?” the question sputtered from his lips before he could stop himself. This man or _thing_ was different than the rest. He was of his own specific kind in this universe.

“I could ask you the same.”

He shut his eyes and groaned. No wonder this new guy was hanging around with the Healer. They responded to all of his questions with the same reverse cross-examination of everything he asked. If this was how the rest of their conversation was going to go then it was likely to end with another needle shoved into his arm and him falling into a dreamless sleep.

“But I won’t because you carry nothing with you but your newly discovered Light and the brightest qualities of your true nature.”

The speed in which he spun his head around to face the man in the white mask made him feel like he’d given himself whiplash. This stranger _knew_ something. He _had_ to. 

An uncomfortable lump seemed to settle in his throat.

“You know me?” it came out as a hopeful, almost desperate sounding whisper, but he didn’t care. He needed answers. It felt as though his entire world depended on recovering what he’d forgotten.

The masked man stood tall and now almost scrupulous in his optimistic eyes. The light from above danced off him in a way that looked as though it wasn't really touching him but reflecting off some invisible case wrapping around his entire being. He looked untouchable.

“I can’t say that anyone truly does know you. Even I don’t know what to make of you or the purpose of you being sent to us, but I will not rebuke what’s been so graciously given. I suppose in time the purpose of your arrival will come to light and until then we must be patient in our waiting.”

Anger rose up in him and he clenched a fistful of sheets. “You lied. You know nothing!” he spat but the stranger showed no emotion beyond that mask of his.

“I know a great many things, young one, but none of which you seek. I will guide you when you desire my aid but first, you must accept what little you've been given and take that in stride. You will get nowhere from squabbling to helpless nurses in the med-bay.”

His face reddened in frustration at his cryptic words and apprehending tone. His legs were itching to get up and just run. No more could he bare the sight of these steely, tedious glass walls that he was fairly sure were two sided and the Healer and his minions were constantly watching him from the other side like an animal.

Resolutely he turned back and glared up into the slots where he imagined the other man's eyes were.

“You can get me out of here?” he insisted.

“I can grant you access to stars in which you’ve fallen from, child.” 

“Something tells me you’re not going to give me a ship and let me fly out of here.”

“And I don’t think you’d travel very far before returning.” He responded so surely and he gave him a questioning look.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because I believe the answers you seek lay here in the current resting home of the Traveler. Aren’t you curious to know why you awoke on this planet and not another?”

A warm sensation in his gut told him to remain here and trust them. None of it made sense but he couldn't find an outlet for his anger or a source to focus it on besides himself. His fingers untangled themselves from the pale sheets as he forced himself to relax.

“What do I need to do?” he muttered compliantly in defeat to both the pestering voice in his head and the man in white standing tall at his bedside.

“You will join the Vanguard and help protect this city and push back the Darkness. I am confident along the way you will discover what has been shrouded to you.”

He thought about the two individuals in red and green that he ran across when he first woke up and how _they_ had been Guardians. The Healer had mentioned that at one point he’d been one too.

And now he was about to be one. Great.

“Fine. But if playing Guardian doesn't help recover my memories then I’m free and neither you or the Healer can hold me here.”

He nodded. “The perils beyond the walls are not exaggerated and I do warn you that life will be nor pleasant or guaranteed if you leave, but you’ll be free to choose that for yourself when the times comes.” 

“So what’s next?” he was itching to get out of the room and actually walk around without someone trying to stop him or jab more needles into him. He definitely wasn’t going to miss open-ended conversations with the Healer either.

“What do I call you?” the masked man suddenly asked and he tensed.

There was no greater feeling of defeat than forgetting your own name. He just couldn’t – no matter how hard he tried to scale the mentally constructed walls that retained him from accessing bits of his mind.

“How pathetic that even that’s been stripped from me.” He ground out through clenched teeth.

"I can give you another if you like. Maybe one just as strong as your last one might have been."

“If it gets you to stop referring to me as ‘ _child’_ or ‘ _young one’_ then I’m open to suggestions.”

The sound from behind the mask was muffled and distorted but if his ears heard correctly then the man in white had just chuckled, which was an odd and slightly unnerving sound from him.

“The Light is bright in you. A powerful Guardian, you will become. Henceforth, you shall be known as _Ravick_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last line is a tribute to Emperor Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith. I thought it would fit perfectly in this scene.
> 
> Ravic: Son of Ra, son of the Egyptian God of the sun.


End file.
